Part 23

Kimberly spent the next five hours in hospital undergoing a series of tests before the doctors discharged her in favor of the more critically injured. They could find nothing wrong with her and went so far as to remove the stitches in her side as the wound had completely closed. She'd refrained from telling them just how long her stitches had been in and was relieved to have them gone.

Tommy stayed with her as much as possible. He didn't leave the waiting room, came with her when he was allowed and waited when he couldn't. Since they were obviously "together", the nurse brought him in for the final diagnosis, releasing Kimberly to his care with a stern admonition to let her rest and recover.

There was one day left of competition - which had been cancelled - and Kimberly now had the room at the dorm to herself. She had no desire to stay, but as she was leaving the hospital, news crews had swarmed them, wanting to know how she felt. She turned her face away, still too numb with the shock of the last several hours - which had only begun to set in - to answer any kind of question with regards to the meet. Tommy had shouldered his way through to a waiting taxi cab and bundled her inside without a word to reporters.

Dangerous, perhaps, but necessary.

They hadn't spoken on the way to the athlete's dorm to collect her bag, nor had they spoken when they'd entered his hotel room, Tommy depositing her on the double bed with the utmost care. He'd respected her need for silence, disappearing into the bathroom and she heard water running a moment later. He didn't reappear immediately, but she could see him fussing in the washroom, getting the towels ready for her. A smile almost touched her lips, but it was weak at best.

Tommy.

What was she going to do with him? She was unsure of herself, remembering the feelings from earlier when she'd known things between them had shifted back to normal. The normal from before. The normal when they'd been attached at the hip and she'd taken delight in simply being with him for no other reason than he'd expected her to be nothing but herself. The normal when they'd complimented each other like peas in a pod.

She looked away from the scene in the mirror, her gaze falling on his duffle bag where it sat on the small table. The room was fairly plain and small - a double bed, a table with two chairs, a small love seat and coffee table, a television and a long dresser with a mirror above it. She shied away from the mirror, dreading the scene that would greet her gaze, and knew without looking she was a mess. She was still covered in blood - both her own and her mother's - and likely look like an accident victim. No wonder Tommy was running her a bath.

"Hey."

Her gaze swung back to his anxious one. She read everything there - everything she'd dreaded and hoped for and it made her all the more confused and exhausted. She wasn't up to dealing with the emotional upheaval the discussion they needed to have would bring. Thankfully Tommy understood - he'd always seemed to understand what she needed better than she did - and he didn't launch into what she expected him to. Instead, he settled next to her, his expression worried.

"Think you can manage a soak before you sleep?"

She nodded, feeling the strain from the day eating through her system and wondered abstractedly if she would be able to sleep. The numbness would soon subside to be replaced by what she'd seen and the emotional toll would be heavy. She knew it as surely as she knew her name, and found herself desperately hoping that the Machine Empire would give her a few days to move past the initial shock.

Tommy's arms were around her again and she felt his heavy sigh through her side. "You're supposed to head for the bathroom if you're intending to soak, Kim. Besides, it'll feel good to be clean."

"Do you... want to go first?"

He shook his head as he deposited her in the bathroom. "I'm going to find heavier covers for the hide-a-bed. I won't be gone long."

She clung to him as he straightened, drawing his gaze back to hers. "Tommy, I-"

"Later, Kim. You're exhausted and in no shape for anything more than a hot bath and a good night's sleep. I'll be back before you're out."

"But I-" she glanced around, wondering if he expected her to leave in the ridiculously small towel when she was finished and almost laughed hysterically at the thought. Who cared at a point like this? She forced herself to finish. "I don't have my sleep wear."

"I'll get your bag."

She reluctantly released him, but he was only gone for a moment before reappearing with her duffle. He placed it on the counter and then flashed her a smile. "Now in. Or I'll strip you down myself."

Unable to summon a smile in return, though he didn't seem to expect it, she lifted heavy fingers to her top. Tommy disappeared, closing the door behind him, and left her to her own devices. Kimberly sank down to the toilet seat and used it to support herself as she pulled off her clothing. She dropped it in a pile under the sink with a shudder, feeling as if she were stripping away not only the blood that coated it, but the pain that went with it.

Yet, she knew that wasn't true.

Shaking, she slid into the hot water with a wince, the liquid feeling almost scalding though she doubted it was more than warm. She was simply ice cold and Tommy had known it. She settled into the deep tub, resting her head against one edge as she stretched out, allowing the heat to permeate her body and chase away the chill that hadn't left since she'd felt herself slipping away. The chill was slow to leave though, and she didn't know how long it took before the water lost its hot feel.

She stared at the ceiling through it all, her mind blank and refusing to process anything. Not that she was in a hotel room alone with Tommy, not that all of her team mates were gone, nor that her mother would never be able to speak with her again. Nothing crossed those black barriers. Nothing seeped through the numbness to make itself stand out. She didn't process the passing of time until the water started to cool and the knock on the door made her jump.

"You alright in there, Kim?"

Only then did she move, hauling herself out of the water and reaching for the plug. Her limbs were still heavy, weighed down by lethargy, but she forced herself to move. "I'm fine. I'm going to have a shower before I come out."

"Take your time." Came his muffled reply.

So she did.

Soaping herself several times and washing her hair twice to rid it of grime and blood, she felt she was sufficiently clean of dirt and bacteria. Yet, despite the knowledge that she was, she still felt as if her mother's blood was on her hands. She soaped them until they smarted; washing vigorously with the washcloth until her hands were bright pink and the skin almost translucent. And still she didn't feel clean.

She made herself stop before she drew blood and simply stood under the hot spray. Tears streaked down her cheeks, disappearing with the water as it beat down on her head. She managed not to sob, the tears a numbed reaction of which she had no control over.

When she turned off the shower several minutes later and reached for a towel, she was still fully in the thrall of the shocked numbness. A blessing to be certain, for she would sleep well - until it wore off.

Hastily drying herself, she pulled on her pajamas and then wrapped her hair in another towel. She opened the door, feeling about three inches tall as she did and not knowing why. Tommy looked up from where he was sprawled on the loveseat, the remote in hand as he muted the show. He was on his feet instantly and beside her in two strides.

Kimberly closed her eyes as he swept her up once more and carried her back to the bed. She opened them only when she felt the coolness of the sheets against her bare feet and looked, startled, to find he'd turned the covers down. He let her go and gently unwound the towel from her hair. She made no protest, not even a gasp or sigh, as he slid one arm around her back and the coaxed her feet under the covers. She felt like she was two again, being put to bed by her parents - yet Tommy's touch was something all together different. There was restraint and understanding laced with concern all mixing together to conspire with the thrill of his bare flesh meeting hers. But it was subdued, muted by the blackness that muffled her mind and senses.

Tommy urged her onto her side and she rolled willingly, knowing she should protest, that she should brush her hair out before she slept, but not caring as Tommy pulled the covers over her. The bed sank behind her and the towel was suddenly returned to her hair, gently rubbing it between the folds as she closed her eyes. The motion continued, lulling her already complacent and benumbed mind into a semi-stupor. The towel left several moments later and she heard him rummaging for something bfore returning. The tug of her brush through her hair was rough until the weight suddenly lifted.

Too lethargic to understand that he'd taken her hair in hand to prevent tugging, she simply let him brush. She didn't make a sound of protest, already slipping aay, as he rolled her onto her other side to tend to her hair completely, the soothing motion of the bristles running over her scalp a subconscious calming motion. She didn't even notice as she slipped from the feel of his gentle ministrations into the benumbed darkness that was sleep...

Darkness.

It surrounded her, swallowed her, lulled her into unconscious ease and banished the sights of the day. The soothing blackness enveloped her in a lovers embrace, protective and deceptive as it cradled the last of her sanity. Shock had no meaning here. No timeframe, no schedule and no understanding of why it was essential. It gradually relaxed, her subconscious self emerging from the safe cocoon to search for answers.

The day's events passed by as if in a kaleidoscope of colors. Some events - mostly trivial ones - seeming to disappear like seeds on the breeze. Others were discarded as irrelevant, not deemed worthy of notice and others... other were the focus. The most traumatic event manifested itself first as Kimberly gradually became aware of her surroundings.

A gentle light filtered through the darkness, like sunlight through leaves, illuminating a bed of white wild flowers where she'd been lain. She smiled, closing her eyes and running her hands over the velvety petals with a soft sigh. They were like feathers to touch, tingling the undersides of her palms and catching on the side of her fingers before drifting away teasingly.

Her hands felt wet.

She glanced down, not understanding the crimson stain that coated the backs of her hands and slid over her fingers. She frowned at it, puzzled. Crimson? Her colors were pink - Tommy's were crimson and she had no reason to be wearing red gloves. Gloves? Hadn't she just felt the softness of the flower's petals with her bare hands?

"Hello, Kimberly."

Her head came up with a brilliant smile. "Mom!" Her smile froze mid-formation on her mouth as her mother stepped towards her, haloed by light, the very brilliant stain in her side. "Mom! You're hurt."

The smile on her mother's face was pained and, as Kimberly watched, became more so as red poured from her side and down, staining the white fabric of her mother's dress with crimson - the same crimson that stained her hands.

Horrified, Kimberly lunged for her mother only to find she couldn't move. She was trapped, held immobile by the very darkness she'd found so comforting. "No! Mom!"

Darkness closed in around her mother, but it was no longer soothing, it was threatening, seeming to tear the strength from her even as Kimberly watched. Their eyes locked and Kimberly let out a shriek as she saw her mother sink to her knees, succumbing to the darkness. The world seemed to slow, her mother's eyes closing as she fell towards the blanket of once white blooms now soaked in her blood - falling towards-

"Kimberly!"

She snapped from the dream choking on a half-scream, half-sob as Tommy's urgent call shattered the vision like glass. She was shaking, entangled in the sheets of the bed, held in place and practically immobile by her thrashings. She struggled against them, desperate to be free of the helpless feeling that engulfed her. Of the helpless feeling that threatened to drawn her with regards to her mother's death. It shouldn't have been her!

Warm, bare arms came around her and she was suddenly lifted from the tangle, freed with two tugs and wrapped firmly in those appendages. She burrowed against his chest, the blood pounding in her ears as she struggled to rid herself of the awful images and the knowledge that, if she had to do things over, she would still do them the same. And with that knowledge came the sickening realization that her mother would still have made the choice she did, sacrificing herself for Kimberly's sake.

She trembled, almost shaking herself from the arms that enfolded her so violent were the motions. Yet she wasn't released and slowly, by degrees, the hysterical urge to scream subsided and the nightmare faded even though it didn't disappear completely. She wasn't even aware that she was sobbing until that moment when she attempted to draw breath.

A droplet of water splashed against her cheek as she struggled to pull herself together. The murmuring she hadn't been able to comprehend suddenly crystallized and she realized it was Tommy's voice whispering reassurances to her, his hands stroking her back and hair as he cradled her close. Her sobbing abated after several moments and she sucked in huge gulps of air, trying to still the tremors that were still sliding through her system.

Another droplet splashed against her cheek, this one too high to have come from her eyes. She made to move, but her arms refused to budge from where they encircled his waist. His warm, naked waist. She stiffened, and his hold on her eased immediately as her head came up, her cheeks flaming scarlet as she realized the position she was in. She was draped across his lap, clinging to him like a monkey and she'd only just noticed he wore nothing more than a towel that appeared to be slipping its knot.

They gazes locked and Kimberly took in what her senses were trying to tell her. The shower still ran in the background. Tommy's hair was plastered to his head, wet and dripping, rivulets of water sliding down over his bare chest, shoulders and arms. He smelled of shampoo and soap and didn't appear the least bit shy or embarrassed as to his lack of attire. Not that he had anything to be shy about - he was as muscular as she remembered - only she couldn't remember him ever wearing just a towel with her.

His hands shifted, one lifting to gently brush her hair from her face. "You alright?"

Kimberly nodded and opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. She tried again, and instead found herself blurting what she was really thinking. "Are you wearing only a towel?"

Tommy blinked and a faint blush colored his cheeks. "Sorry - I heard you from the shower; it was the closest thing."

Kimberly was placed back on the bed amidst the blankets that had translated into shackles in her dream and shivered, wrapping her arms about her middle. She wouldn't be able to sleep again; not with the way the dream had ensnared her. She didn't dare.

"Kim?"

She lifted her gaze to where Tommy stood beside the bed, one hand on the knot of the towel to hold it in place, his expression concerned.

"Will you be alright for a few minutes while I finish my shower and change?"

She nodded silently, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on top. Tommy accepted her silent response with obvious reluctance, pausing in the doorway to the washroom and turning back. "Call if you need me, okay? I'll hear you."

"Thank you, Tommy."

He smiled and disappeared inside the bathroom. The door was left open a crack - not enough to peak, but enough to allow the sound to pass. She stared at it, shivering and realized absently that her clothing was wet where she'd touched him - except where her backside had been cradled on his towel covered lap. She buried her face in her knees, struggling with the images of the dream and the images that had greeted her when she'd awoken. Despair and desire. Cold and hot. She shivered again, the tremors shooting through her body and making her quake.

On some level she wished she could do something to banish the scenes, the nightmares. The shock was lessening, her subconscious mind already dealing with the issues as they were brought forward, discarding those that had no value. But that meant she ached. Abysmally. Her chest hurt, like she couldn't get enough air and her head throbbed from the amount of input. But it was her mother's death that made her feel battered; which made her feel small. She knew it had been her mother's choice, but that choice had robbed her of the one constant source of support she'd never considered being without.

The sound of the shower stopped and she could hear the slide of Tommy's feet against the porcelain of the tub. Then nothing. The brush of a towel, the jingle of keys, maybe the faint whisper of cloth on flesh. She pushed it away, not moving from her position, leaving her face where it was.

Tommy was too good to her - she didn't deserve him.

The bed shifted as he eased himself onto it - she didn't look, but it couldn't have been anyone else - and his hand gently stroked her hair. "Hey."

She lifted her head, tossing it slightly to dislodge his touch, tears blurring her vision of him. "Why are you doing this Tommy?"

"Stroking your hair?"

"Being so nice to me." Her words felt distant, like they were being said by someone else. "You shouldn't be - I killed my mother!"

"Kim…"

Tommy reached for her and she scooted away, hitting the headboard in her attempt to avoid his touch. She couldn't bear to watch the understanding in his eyes turn to loathing when he realized she was right. His hand dropped and a flash of pain crossed his features but it was gone so fast she might have imagined it.

He started again. "You didn't kill your mother, Kim."

"I did." Her insistence was but a whisper. "I chose to come after you guys knowing I should have been in a hospital instead. If I'd gotten help before coming-"

"Then we'd have both been dead." He cut her off, his tone steely. "You saved us Kim. You came to help us. That your mother chose to sacrifice herself for you is a testament to how much she loved you - not a reason to feel guilty or responsible."

"It should have been me!"

He didn't respond, simply sat watching her.

"You know I'm right, otherwise you wouldn't just sit there."

Tommy lunged to his feet, taking several angry steps away before whirling on her, his eyes blazing. "Will it help if I tell you that you did die, Kim? Will it make you feel better knowing it was you? That I had to stand by helplessly and watch your mother tear herself apart with guilt, knowing there was nothing we could do to save you? Will it assuage your guilt to know that you were dead and gone, only to be brought back to die again because without the powers of the sixth Ranger we had to choose between healing you and saving your life? I brought you back to die, Kimberly! I had to stand there and watch as your mother begged me to do something, anything that would let you live and know there wasn't anything I could do!"

"You should have let me die!"

There was a banging on the floor above them, indicating they'd roused their neighbors with their shouts, and Tommy took several deep, calming breaths and moderated his tone, but it lacked none of the impact of his shouts for all its lack of volume. "Never. If I had to go back and do it again, to watch your mother take on your injuries knowing they would pain her but save your life, I would. If I had to hear her thank me with her last breath, knowing that the one person she valued above her own life were safe, I would. If I had to stand and watch her body shake and blossom with blood and pain again, I would. She chose to give you a second chance, Kimberly, and bought it with her life. If you honor her sacrifice, you'd accept that and forget this foolish notion of guilt."

"She's dead because of me, Tommy. How can I forget that?"

"She'd dead because of what the Machine Empire did to you, Kim. If you'd been in top fighting shape and not recovering from wounds the Machine Empire inflicted, you'd have been fine - you could have helped us face Archerina and Gasket. Instead they chose to take advantage of your weakness. They chose to have you fight them with the intention of killing you. They're responsible for your mother's death - not you. Never you. You didn't want her dead, Kim, but they wanted you dead, and your mother refused to allow it."

"It's still my fault."

"The only fault of yours is being so wonderful and loveable your mother couldn't contemplate a world without you. In my books, that's a blessing - not a crime."

Tears tracked silently down her cheeks. "How can you say that? Mom would be alive today if-"

"Your mother didn't want to live in a world without you, Kim." He broke in, shaking his head, his still damp hair starting to curl about his face. "How could I deny her last request? How could I tell her no when I knew the pain she was going through thinking about a world without you? How could I do that to her and believe I'd done the right thing?"

She stared at him in mute surprise. Was he saying what she thought he was saying without really saying it at all? Tommy seemed to deflate, taking the steps back to the bed and settling down beside her once more. When he reached for her hand, she didn't resist him this time. "I made a promise to your mother, Kimberly. I promised that I'd take care of you for her. The truth is, I promised it as much for her as I did for me. Seeing you like that and knowing I couldn't save you..." He stopped, unable to continue.

"You've always saved me, Tommy. Don't you see? I tried to save you - and got my mother killed in the process."

"No Kim." He leaned forward to look deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. "You did save us. If you hadn't come when you did, there was no telling what might have happened. What happened to your mom came later and it wasn't your doing. It was the Machine Empire's. If they hadn't injured you, none of this would have happened."

"I chose to compete, Tommy." She brushed angrily at her tears. "If I hadn't, I might not have hurt myself worse."

"How badly did you hurt yourself during your routine, Kim? Even I could tell you had change it to favor the one side. You deliberately minimized the potential damage. Maybe you tore a stitch or two, but it wouldn't have caused enough damage to kill you. I saw you fight in those first moments, remember? I saw them hit you - deliberately going for your weakened side. The Cogs were under orders to inflict as much damage on you as they could - how can you possibly think any of this if your fault?"

"If I hadn't fought..." She stopped, as he smiled softly, shaking his head. "They'd have killed me anyway, wouldn't they?"

He nodded. "Exactly. Archerina has made it her mission to eliminate you, Kim. If we'd let her win, not only would we have lost you, but the Pink Powers would have gone with you."

"I could have given them to someone else when you brought me back."

"Who - your mom?"

Kimberly laughed, though it was more a sob than a laugh. "Maybe. She'd look killer in pink spandex."

"Your mom didn't save you to save the Rangers, Kim. In fact, she made it very clear it had no bearing on her decision. She saved you because she loved you - it's as simple as that."

The logic of his words had put not dent in the sorrow that was almost overwhelming but the straight, simple explanation made her crack. Her mother had loved her. She'd known it, never doubted it, but the selfless act to sacrifice herself for her daughter had been completely beyond Kimberly's realm of understanding. But Tommy was right. Her mother had loved her. Loved her so much, she'd done what any parent who loves their child would have done if given the chance.

She'd taken Kimberly's place.

Tears slid in an unending river down her cheeks and when Tommy collected her in his arms, she didn't resist him, didn't fight him. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder as silent sobs wracked her frame. His arms sheltered her, comforted her the way no one else's ever could. She drank it in, pulling on his strength when she had none of her own - and he didn't object, simply lent her what she needed until she could call on her own once more.

When she had no more tears to cry, no more sobs to shake, she closed her eyes against his shoulder and held him tightly. She still didn't think she'd be able to sleep, but the gentle rocking motion he held her with was lulling her into slumber. When she finally fell asleep, it was safely within the cradle of his arms to the beat of his heart under her ear and the knowledge that Tommy cared far more than he'd said.